The Harry Eisenberg Memorial Page
September 20, 1903 - November 23, 1996
Click on the photo for a full image
Harry & Rae Eisenberg On Their Wedding Day
An era has passed, an epoch has ended. The man whom I knew as Poppy passed away on Saturday, November 23, 1996 at the age of 93. The three people whom have had the most influence on me in life have all passed on, leaving me to mourn in silence, trying to be a man, holding back the tears, striving to continue the values they instilled in me even though they can no longer guide me with their presence. Those people are my grandmother, Rachel, pictured above, gone now for thirty years, along with my grandfather, Harry, pictured with her, and my lifelong friend, Howard, gone now for three years.
As for my grandfather, every gray hair on his balding pate, every wrinkle in his furrowed brow, every painful step he took - these were his trophies, the testaments to his courage and determination, his refusal to be anything less than all he could be. While my grandmother gave me compassion, love and tenderness, and Howard gave me my positive outlook and never say die attitude, my grandfather gave me my value system. He had a moral compass never seen in any other person, alive or dead. If nothing else (and there was so much more), you could always count on Harry to speak the truth, even if that truth was painful to him or you, but never with the intention of bringing pain, but truly believing, as the Bible claims, "the truth shall set you free". With the truth also came courage, not the phoney kind, that falls off the lips of those in love with themselves, but the kind in which a lifetime of actions speak louder than any words I can utter here. A man who from birth had great pain in his body, that was kept under control by his sheer determination to not let it rule him.
Of course there was the tender, gentle side to the man that few were allowed to see. I remember the stories of life growing up during the dawning years of the twentieth century. The struggles of early childhood and his younger adult days that he could tell you in such a way as to keep you spellbound for hours. What wonderful memories, listening to those stories as a child, curled up at his feet. He also could teach as none other. There was the game of chess, which I have been fortunate enough to pass along to my middle son. There were times when we would sit down for a game, and he would drag it out, so I could believe that I wasn't a total failure at playing. I can still remember the first time I beat him, he was both astonished and proud because he knew I owed it all to him. Poppy also gave me a love for fixing things. Along with instilling in me a desire to know how things worked, he showed me with his strong and steady hands how to use hand tools, including a brace that I still use today. I gave him my first wood shop project, a lamp that looked like a pump well, that he displayed with pride for many years.
I could go on for pages but that would only bring more tears and you probably wouldn't read it anyhow. Just let me say that I loved him more than most can tell, and in a very special way that was shared by no one else. I will miss him and pray that I can keep living up to the standards that he held for himself and those he loved for the years to come. Goodbye Poppy, rest with grandma and God, and finally be at peace, you deserve it.
My Grandfather's Poem Which Adorns His & My Grandmother's Headstone
Alone I walked up lover's laneMy eyes in tears, my heart in pain
Out of nowhere you came along
Filled my life with happiness and song
Into that nowhere you went away
And left me standing out in the rain
So once again I walk up lover's lane
My eyes in tears, my heart in pain
With faith and hope I know that
Some day, somehow, we shall be together again